


Founder's Day

by Anonymous



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, not beta read. never beta read. live life on the edge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20654624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ignis's boyfriend is almost a mirror image of Noctis.Surely this will not come back to bite him later when he meets the kings of yore.Surely not.





	Founder's Day

**Author's Note:**

> I'm kind of tired of this chilling in my drafts, so I'm tossing it out into the world as a fresh baby, alone and afraid
> 
> a fill for the [kinkmeme:](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11530298#cmt11530298)
> 
> Ignis has been in love with Noctis forever, but thinks he can't have him. When he meets Somnus, a suave and confident older man who looks just like Noct, he lets himself be seduced.
> 
> Up to you whether it ends up ignoct or Ignis is happy w Somnus or it's just a one night stand with some unrequited pining! My only requirement is that Somnus and Ignis have amazing sex together.
> 
> unfortunately much less sex than the prompt demanded, because I worked myself into a hole with his nickname and couldn't stop laughing at "Ignis and Greg"

The only sounds in Noctis’s apartment for a while are the faucet running, the gentle swishing of water, and the chill music playlist Noctis has on loop while he finishes his final assignments. A few of the windows are pushed wide; it’s a warm spring evening, and Noctis hasn’t aired out his room in a while, so Ignis lets them open for a bit of a draft. It’s the same calm, quiet evening they often have on school nights, and with Noctis’s graduation in a few short weeks, they haven’t had much room for anything beyond quiet nights at his apartment. Still, it’s a Friday, and one of Lucis’s favorite holidays is tomorrow, so the prince seems a little antsy to finish up and do something.

Ignis  places the pan he’s been scrubbing off to the side and wipes his hands on a dish towel. “ All right. I’ve packed up the leftovers and tossed out the ones you left unfinished from a few nights ago; your uniform should be ready and hanging up in your room.”

Noctis doesn’t reply, but he’s stopped scribbling in his notes. Ignis sighs. “Noct  Are you listening ?”

“Hot date?”

“...Pardon me?”

Noctis pauses  the music and turns to Ignis. “That guy you’ve been dating for a couple months now, right? Aren’t you taking him to the Founder’s Festival tomorrow?”

Ignis feels himself flush; he carefully folds up the dish towel to give his hands something to do. “I...I had planned on that, yes.”

“Cool,” Noctis says. The sudden absence of any sort of background noise feels smothering. After a few moments of awkward silence, Noctis asks, “Am I ever gonna meet him someday?”

“Meet…?”

“Mystery boyfriend. Duh.”

Ignis pushes his glasses up and walks around the counter to collect his coat; he’s sure that Noctis can tell he’s avoiding looking at him. He tries to will the blush off his face. “I’m  hardly certain that he would want to meet the  _prince._ ”

Noctis makes a mock offended gasp. “ _Ignis. _ You don’t like me anymore?”

“Bold of you to assume I ever liked you at all,” Ignis retorts. Noctis gasps louder, and Ignis grins at him. “Besides, aren’t you going with Prompto and Gladio?”

Noctis snorts. “Yeah, sure, hot date with Gladio. That’s what everyone dreams of.”

“Really? I have nightmares about it.”

“Also, Prompto’s not...” Noctis coughs. “My _boyfriend. _Jeez. I mean, he’s cool, but. Not like that.”

“Mhm. No hot date of your own.”

“Nope. I’ll be forever single and let down the entire country when I don’t have an heir. Sorry. Make sure to let my dad know.”

Ignis drapes his jacket over his arm; the weather outside is warm enough that he won’t need it, even with the sun beginning to set. “Was there anything else you wanted, Noct?”

Noctis looks at Ignis’s coat, avoiding his eyes; it does look like he has something on the edge of his tongue, but he eventually shrugs and unpauses the playlist. “Nah. Have fun with your date tomorrow, Iggy.”

His tone shift worries Ignis, but Noctis waves him off and wills a smile.  The prince’s cheeks are a little pink.   
“Seriously.”

. . .

He always parks several blocks away from Noctis’s building, outside the security perimeter; only Ignis and a few members of the crownsguard that live in the floors below Noctis’s have access into the apartment building. Ignis would usually drive himself, but.

He turns the corner, and like it always does, the familiar black hair cut in that same style makes his heart thud. When the man in the driver’s seat looks up and grins at him, the thudding doesn’t stop.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Ignis says, pulling open the door and sliding into the passenger’s side. “I had to finish u-”

He’s cut off by the man  pulling him into a deep kiss; Ignis closes his eyes and threads his fingers through his soft,  dark hair. It’s not really that special, seeing as knockoffs of the prince’s haircut are a bit of a trend now, but he’s always been bizarrely fixated on it. The man bites down on his lip with his teeth, and Ignis sighs, pulling back slightly.

“I’m ancient,” the man says, hands wandering to Ignis’s shirt collar and popping open the top button. “and my sense of time is entirely destroyed. I’m terribly impatient.”

Ignis huffs a laugh, a little breathy as his lover moves to kiss at his neck. “Greg,” He says, pushing him back off him and into his own seat, “Perhaps you can have a  _bit _ more patience until we get out of a crownsguard-patrolled area?”  
Not that anyone would exactly  _care _ if Ignis fucked his boyfriend in a car a few blocks from the prince’s apartment, but. Public street. Principle of the thing. All that.

“Fine,” Greg says, shuffling in his seat and turning the engine on. The way his cheeks blush makes Ignis think terrible things, but he shoves them quickly out of mind.

. . .

All right. They’re not  _too _ terrible.

And they may be exactly the thing that drew Ignis to Greg in the first place.

They barely make it through the door of Ignis’s apartment when Greg slams him up against the wall in the hallway, resuming exactly where he left off; despite being a bit shorter than Ignis, he boxes him in with his arms  on either side of his head, drawing him into a kiss.

I gnis’s eyes flutter shut; if he closes them, he can  _just _ imagine that it’s not Greg, that it’s a different set of lips brushing against his own altogether. Greg is kind of over-eager, in the way he’d imagine  _him _ to be, and it really isn’t fair for Ignis to be thinking this while he’s with him, but he can’t shove the image out of his head tonight. 

He’d met  Greg several months ago when he was out at some club with Gladio; the prince’s shield had given him an  _extremely _ pointed look when he caught Ignis staring, shrugged; “I won’t stop you, but.  _Really, _ Iggy?”

Ignis had blushed, but sucked up his courage to go talk to the stranger. He’d actually almost approached him earlier, mistaking him for someone else, but the more he’d looked he could see the differences. This man was more solidly built than him, hair styled just slightly less spiked, held himself a bit taller. His facial features were much sharper, but he also seemed to be a few years older. Otherwise, though, the resemblance was uncanny.

Greg was, apparently, thirty years old a nd a professor of  zoology at a university in the city. His story checked out when Ignis looked  it up ; he apparently focused on ornithology, specifically chocobos. He’d stammered when Ignis asked his name:

“Oh.  Um.  I’m  Gi l ...Greg.”

E verything he said about himself, he seemed so unsure of; Ignis had looked him up at the university specifically concerned that perhaps the man was lying to get close to one of the crown advisors. Everything came back fine; Greg was just a nervous man, apparently. It was almost endearing. Ignis kind of wanted to curse himself for it.

He wanted to curse himself now, but Greg  is  pressed up close against him an d leaving a trail of marks down his shoulder, and he can’t think beyond his pulse in his ears to tell him to shove off, they should probably have a talk.

“To bed, then?” Greg whispers to him, and Ignis shoves down the thought and pulls him along.

. . .

“Oh, wow.”

Greg looks completely mystified by the whole festivities; he’d mentioned he didn’t get out very much, but even at other events Ignis has taken him to he hasn’t look quite as startled. Ignis squeezes his hand.

“Have you never been to the Founder’s Day Festival before?”

Greg looks around and shakes his head. “Not...the regular festival, no.”

They wander through the crowd; Ignis is off duty today,  but he spots several crownsguard in plainclothes in the group. Security is much higher at this event than most others, apparently due to some mishap during a reenactment  almost twenty years ago. Supposedly they’d attempted some live performance with a portrayal of Ifrit and the Founder King fighting that didn’t end well. Ignis has heard surprisingly little of the event, even from the guard; the most that got recorded of it was one of the border patrol going missing after causing a disturbance. Still, they pass by a check of city guards into the main festivities.

It really is a lot, but it  _is _ the founder of their kingdom; cheerful music plays over the speakers, announcing a parade and a speech by his majesty in the afternoon. Greg follows Ignis almost like his shadow.

“You’d think this is a bit...overkill, no?” Greg asks as they pass by a hat shop. “I mean...was the founder king _really _that grand?”

Ignis gives a little shrug. “An excuse to celebrate, then, if you’re one of the people uncomfortable with the monarchy’s reach.”

Greg shakes his head. “Not with the monarchy, of course not, merely...nevermind.”

Ignis doesn’t press him; Greg looks oddly pale, and he decides to instead steer the conversation towards lunch.

He seems to brighten up at least a little bit as they talk over food; Greg’s always been absolutely  _enamored _ with junk food, and it makes Ignis want to bite his tongue, but at least he finishes most of his vegetables, at least when they’re on top of a burger. He still pawns off his sides onto Ignis.

“You’ve got a little bit of -” Ignis starts, swiping a smudge of ketchup off Greg’s cheek. He meets his eyes; they’re a bright blue, and make him pause.

“We should probably keep going around, hm?” Greg says, pushing out of his chair and knocking Ignis back a bit. “I _did _say I haven’t been here before, and I’m sure you’ve got lots to show me.”

“I...”

Ignis stands there, hand still a little outstretched.

“Yes.”

The rest of the afternoon passes in a nervous haze; he falls in step next to Greg, who seems to nearly toss himself into things; there’s a few games set up, and Ignis somehow manages to convince him to take a picture in front of the founder king’s statue. Greg tries mimicking the pose; he holds out his hands, folded as if he’s holding a blade in front of him, and turns his head dramatically to the side.

“I feel like I need a cloak,” he comments, making Ignis laugh as he snaps the picture.

“I’m sure the king will forgive you.”

The air begins to cool as the afternoon wears on; the weather called for thunderstorms after the parade ends. Greg bumps into Ignis as they walk for a bench to sit down.

They both speak at the same time:

“Ignis.”

“Greg.”

Ignis swallows. “...Yes?”

“I...we need to talk. About something.” Greg shoves his hands in his pockets. 

They both sit; Ignis waits for him to speak first.

“I can’t...I’m sorry. I can’t keep this up.” He takes Ignis’s hands in his own,  smoothing his hands over them. “You’re wonderful, but. I can’t.”

Ignis isn’t sure what to say. Greg looks as if he’s choosing his words carefully when he says, “Today made me think, and I can’t keep this. I mean...you. Us. It doesn’t feel right.”

“No, I think I know what you mean,” Ignis says. He grabs Greg’s hand in return. “I’ve...not been entirely honest in my feelings, and it’s -”

“Not right to keep dating the prince’s lookalike when it’s your job. Did I hit the mark?”

“...Right,” Ignis says. “That.”

Greg studies Ignis’s face carefully. “Besides,” he says, his voice almost curious, “I’m not quite sure if it’s  _me _ you’re really after, anyway.”

Ignis turns red; it’s one thing to think it himself, another to hear Greg say it out loud. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t-”

“It is, though,” Greg says, almost insistently. “You don’t really know me, after all. I’m...ten years your senior, and our relationship has been. Kind of. Well.”

“I’m sorry,” Ignis says. Greg’s face is melancholy; lie he’d anticipated this for a while. It makes Ignis’s stomach hurt. “You really are a wonderful man, but I...”

Greg smiles, a little soft. “It’s fine. Ignis. You don’t understand now, but really. I’ll be all right.”

. . .

“Hey, specs?”

“Noct?”

“Hold up a second.”

Ignis has his hand on Noctis’s front door, shoes already on. 

“What is i- _mmf._ ”

Without much of a warning, Noctis pulls Ignis in by his shirt collar and crushes their mouths together; it’s sloppy, it’s inelegant, Noctis has almost  _certainly _ never kissed anyone before in his life, and it’s the most wonderful kiss Ignis has ever had. He feels his eyes close and he reaches up to cup Noctis’s cheek.

They break apart after only a few short seconds, and the kiss really  _was _ awkward, but Ignis still feels himself go a little weak. Noctis looks a mess.

“I...sorry, I should’ve asked, but I didn’t want to chicken out, but you just-”

It’s Noctis’s turn to be cut off as Ignis kisses him instead, making a little nervous noise in his throat as Ignis cups his cheek, fingers brushing at his hair.

“Are you certain there’s nothing else you had to ask?” Ignis says, a small smile on his face, as they break apart. Noctis laughs.

“No, I think…I think that answered that question.”


End file.
